


Lost in the Woods

by happybeans



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Delusions, Discussions of Sexual Assault and Rape Aftermath, Gen, Irondad, Mental Health Discussions, Psychosis, There's a lot of drama but I swear there's also fun moments in this., Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-27
Updated: 2019-12-28
Packaged: 2021-02-26 08:06:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21980029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/happybeans/pseuds/happybeans
Summary: Tony and Peter escape a kidnapping only to find themselves lost in the woods with no suits and no hope of rescue. Relying on each other for survival, the two learn a lot about one another. And it turns out, Peter's been keeping more secrets than Tony can imagine.
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 24
Kudos: 270
Collections: The Best Irondad/Spiderson Fics, The Best Peter Parker Whump Fics, The Best of the Best MCU Fics





	1. Day 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, trigger warning. In the beginning here, we have a woman who implies intent to sexually assault our boy, and there's a strong discussion of Peter's past canonical rape throughout this first chapter. In later chapters, there is discussion of psychosis, specifically delusions, which our boy suffers from within this story. If either of those things make you uncomfortable, you're best off skipping this story. Make sure you guys stay safe.

Okay, so here’s where we’re at. And take it in fast, because we’re not going to dwell on it.

Alright. So the ‘We’re being kidnapped!’ plan failed, and the back-up for that plan failed. Then the back-up back-up plan failed, and that’s where things got real hot real fast.

And then they stopped altogether.

Until approximately right now, anyways.

“Ow, shit...”

Oh, goodie, the child’s finally rising and shining.

(Tony’s shoulders finally un-tense, and he breathes a bit easier—just don’t tell anyone, okay?)

“Hey, no swearing,” Tony scolds quietly. As far as he’s aware, there’s nobody waiting outside the door, but just in case...

“Mr. Stark?” Peter asks, opening his eyes into a squint and looking over.

Tony offers him a smile and as much of a wave as the cuff allows him. Meaning that his hand really only moves up an inch from the chair’s arm.

Peter looks down, shaking his hands as much as he can within his own cuffs, then looks back up.

“Again?” he asks, and Tony just has to laugh, humorless and dry. Mentor of the year, everybody.

The second they’re free, this kid’s getting an ice cream cone.

“Again,” Tony confirms with an apologetic smile.

Peter groans, a dissatisfied ‘ugh’, and his head drops back down to his chest.

“Hey,” Tony whispers. “What’s going on over there?”

Peter lifts his head back up, but only minutely. “I’m good, I’m good,” he says, not very reassuringly. “My head is just...ugh. Everything’s...” He lifts his hands beneath the metal bars caging in his wrists, possibly trying to gesture. “Wiggly.”

“Wiggly? Not how I’d put it, but I like the effort. They must have shot you up with a lot more tranquilizers than me.”

The kid shrugs one shoulder. “Yeah, maybe,” he says. He lifts his head up, this time resting it backwards so it’s tilted up towards the ceiling. Finally, he brings it down to look at Tony and at their restraints.

“Should I try to get out of these?” he asks, nodding his head.

“Seems like a good first step,” Tony says, choosing to be nice and avoid any major sarcasm.

Nodding, Peter’s arms clench as he strains against the metal. Then, suddenly, he stops, falling back to limp.

Tony’s about to ask what’s up when the door opens, and he leans back against his chair, feigning sleep with one eye cracked slightly open.

“Cut the shit,” a female voice demands from in front of him after a moment, kicking at Tony’s legs.

Tony opens his eyes fully, but he doesn’t give up the act. “What—where am I?” he asks, looking around the room. “Who are you?”

“Enough,” she says, and she slaps him across the face. Tony turns his head with the force, so it hurts less, but it still stings like a bitch.

Weirdly enough, the woman continues, “So we meet again, Stark. I bet you thought you’d seen the last of me.”

Tony has not seen this woman in his life. But the kid’s here, so instead of pointing that out, he says, “What do you want me for?”

She laughs, a short huff of breath, then says, “What do you think?” She reaches forward to tap a finger against the arc reactor in his chest. “It seems nobody can make these like you can, Stark.”

Well, this is familiar.

“Right, that’s kind of a part of my thing,” Tony finds himself saying. “Not sure if you noticed.”

She hums, smiling, but her eyes stay locked on him. Tsking, she starts to lean forward as she says, “Oh, Stark. You’ll learn soon that I don’t appreciate being spoken back to.”

And suddenly she’s too close, and Tony tries to scrunch his chin towards his neck to avoid it, but her hand clasps around his neck, cutting off the airway and causing his whole body to seize in panic.

“Hey, get off of him!” Peter shouts, and Tony doesn’t even have the time to curse the kid before the woman’s turning around to face him.

“Ah, your little intern,” she says. She struts over to him, heeled-boots clicking, and her voice gets low as she continues, “I’m sure I’ll find a use for him.”

And as she says it, she wraps a leg around him, sitting down to straddle his waist, and as Tony’s blood freezes in his veins, he sees Peter’s eyes blow wide, his hands shocking still in fear.

And then he explodes.

“Get off of me!” Peter shouts, and he moves suddenly, the metal bars cuffing his hands ripping off and the woman flying across the room as he shoves her.

She slams into the wall, and Peter stands up, breathing quickly and hands twitching as he runs them down his legs over and over.

“Peter,” Tony finds himself whispering. He raises his voice to normal and says again, “Peter. It’s okay. Take a deep breath.”

Peter looks over to Tony, but his breaths remain shaky and uneven.

“You’re fine,” Tony says again, firm and set. “Take a breath.”

And, thankfully, Peter does.

“Right,” Peter says after a moment. “Right. I’m fine.”

“Right.” The fuck was that? “You’re good. You wanna help me out of here? We’ve gotta go.”

“Right.” Peter wrings his hands as he starts walking over. “Yeah, I can do that.”

He yanks the bars off Tony’s wrists quickly, and Tony looks around at the room behind him as he stands up, spotting a window not too high off the ground. 

Is this really the best they could do?

Shaking his head, he walks over to the window, and Peter doesn’t need to be told to pull the metal bars caging away the window; he just does it, silently and without quip, though with a glance at the woman, who it seems survived the Peter toss, groaning and rolling onto her back.

Peter helps boost Tony up to the window, and as Tony crawls onto the grass, he climbs up and out himself. 

Tony turns around to look and finds that it’s a sad, worn-down and falling apart house that they were being held in. That bodes well; at least it’s not a bigger organization or something.

“There’s more people in there,” Peter says, and Tony nods. 

They ignore the road and instead start jogging off into the tree-line. A little walk in the woods never hurt anybody.

They carry on for a few minutes, putting the house into the distance and out of sight, then slow down to a walk. 

“So...is there something we should talk about?” Tony asks once he’s caught his breath. He keeps his head pointed forwards as they walk, but he eyes the kid out of the corner of his eye.

Peter makes a face, lips curling and eyebrows drawing together.

“Nope,” he says plainly, popping the ‘p’.

Tony expects a little elaboration, maybe some rambling explanation after all, but for once, Peter stays quiet.

“There somebody I need to kill?”

Thankfully, Peter snorts a laugh at that. He looks to Tony with a sort of half-smirk, saying, “You’re Iron Man. You can’t kill people.”

Tony makes an ‘Ehhhhh’ sound, twisting his hand back and forth in the air.

Peter rolls his eyes in good humor, turning back to look forward. He kicks a stone out of the way then says, “I just don’t think it’s right. No offense.”

Too bad.

“Well, it doesn’t have to be murder,” Tony points out logically. “I could ruin all their future career goals, for instance.”

Peter snorts. “I don’t think they even have any career goals.”

Tony nods, rubbing a hand over his beard.

“Financial ruin, then,” he says. He raises a hand in a palm-up gesture. “All I’m saying is we have options here.”

Peter nods along, in a way as if to say ‘whatever, old man, just leave it alone.’

“Thanks, Mr. Stark, I’ll keep that in mind,” he says instead. Tony applauds his patience. And politeness. May Parker is a miracle-worker.

The topic drops, though Tony doesn’t stop thinking about it. They continue onward for a while, putting some distance between themselves and the building. 

Tony does what he always does when he’s nervous: he talks. A lot. He talks about what just happened and about what it might mean for them, about how they need to try to find some form of civilization, which Peter agrees with.

It’s a little while deep into their trek that Tony finally accepts that they might not be getting out of these woods tonight and that they should probably start planning for how to get through the night, just in case.

Their first order of business is finding water. Because Tony might not be the great outdoorsman of the decade, but he does at least have some survival knowledge.

Yes, he will be thanking Rhodey for that the second they’re out of the woods—both proverbially and physically.

Thankfully, it pays to have a kid who’s half spider with you when you get lost in the woods; the kid climbs a tree, way higher than Tony’s comfortable with without the suit, and when he jumps down, he relays that there’s a river not too far ahead.

Great.

Tony reaches to pat Peter’s shoulder, an automatic movement, but unlike the other times they’ve done this, Peter flinches away, eyes wide.

They freeze for a moment, Tony’s hand in mid-air and Peter twisted like a corkscrew from the waist-up.

Then the tension seems to fall right out of him.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, grimacing.

Tony pulls in a slow breath, and the arc reactor must be affected by the altitude because he swears his heart hurts for a moment.

“You’re okay,” he says, pulling his hand back. “Don’t apologize.  _ I’m  _ sorry.”

“Ugh, Mr. Stark...no. Just...” he reaches out, grabbing Tony’s wrist and dropping his hand onto Peter’s shoulder. When Tony doesn’t move, Peter bounces his shoulder up and down.

Tony can’t help but to laugh, though it isn’t really a laugh at all, is it?

He lets out a breath, feeling all of these icky emotions that he can’t hope to process at once.

With the thinnest of smiles, he dutifully pats Pete’s shoulder, saying again: “You’re okay. We’re okay.”

“Right,” Peter agrees, and that’s that for then.

————————

Of course, ‘not too far ahead’ for Peter translates to ‘a long, boring-ass walk away’ to Tony.

Look, it’s not that he’s out of shape. He’s Iron Man, for god’s sake, obviously he works out.

The issue is more-so the lack of toys, of projects. 

Tony Stark doesn’t walk places. 

When he goes to the gym, he runs, fine, but when he’s on his own, he’s working, he’s creating. He’s tapping out an email as he’s driven. He does stuff, okay?

He sounds like a damn millennial. He can go one day without his phone.

If anything, at least this little excursion gives him a chance to catch up with the kid.

“So gimme the rundown,” he says to change the topic away from the shoulder-touch thing. “How’s school?”

“Oh, it’s going good,” Peter says. He gets that he should be stalling for time, because he talks about every single one of his classes. That, or maybe Tony just lets him monologue for too long.

Either way, it works out; by the time Peter’s done, they can see the river.

————————

With the water situation handled, they agree that the next priority is shelter, since the sun seems like it’s starting to ponder setting down. 

They begin walking along the river in silence, keeping an eye out for anything that seems promising. 

It’s probably ten-minutes into this walk that Peter breaks the silence.

“There was this guy,” he says. “He...uhhh...” his eyes flick away as he trails off. “Nevermind.”

Tony looks away, too, teeth clenched together tight. He swallows then forces a smile, saying, “The offer still stands.”

Head tilting as he looks over, Peter says, “What offe—oh. Murder. Right. Yeah, I’m good.”

“Financial ruin,” Tony sing-songs temptingly.

Peter huffs a laugh. “Thanks, Mr. Stark,” he says. Then he gets this sort of goofy smile, head tilting to the side.

Then he reaches out and pats Tony’s left shoulder twice.

Tony can’t help it. He bursts out into laughter, loud and uncomposed.

Peter blushes, but that just makes it even better, really.

Tony reaches a hand out, slower this time so that Peter can see, then rubs his head, fucking up the kid’s hair just because Tony’s an adult and he can.

Still chuckling, he shakes his head, saying, “Never change, Pete.”

Peter makes an ‘ugh’ sound, reaching up to fix his hair. He fails completely.

But, the kid’s smiling for real now, so. Mission accomplished.

————————

“Okay, so what about right here?”

Peter makes a contemplative ‘hmm’ sound, hand rubbing his hairless chin as he surveys the area.

“Not bad,” he says. “But there’s not enough trees.”

Tony throws his hands up in the air.

“We’re in the fucking woods, kid. There’s trees literally everywhere.”

It must be the fact that they’ve been at it for literal hours. Peter whips his head over to glare at Tony.

“And? It’s not my fault you managed to pick the one spot without enough coverage.”

Tony just stares at him for a moment, speechless, and Peter’s face falls.

“Sorry,” he mumbles. “You’re doing your best. I’m not trying to be mean... I’m just hungry.”

And this is the moment when Tony realizes that the sun is setting and Peter hasn’t eaten since earlier that morning, before their quick trip to the store ended up flopping severely.

“Okay, new plan,” Tony says, clapping his hands once. “You handle the housing situation. I’m gonna go figure out dinner.”

“Mr. Stark... I’m sorry, but do you even know how to hunt?”

“Do you?”

Peter’s quiet for a moment, head tilted. “No, but...”

Tony shrugs. “I’ll figure it out,” he says, nonchalantly. “Don’t doubt me.”

“I’d never doubt you,” Peter says, despite the fact that he quite literally just doubted him.

“Whatever you say. Look, I’m gonna go down by the river. Just...stay within earshot.”

“Gotcha,” Peter says with a nod.

They go their separate ways, thankfully able to keep a general eye or ear on each other.

Tony manages to wrangle some fish, through no small amount of swearing, and when Peter meets him down by the river, it’s assumedly with their sleeping situation figured out.

“Woah, impressive,” Peter says looking down at the fruits of Tony’s labor.

He ended up sectioning off a portion of the river with rocks and branches, making a way for the fish to swim in from upstream but no way for them to come out downstream. He’s pretty sure this is an actual fishing technique, but he lays claims on having invented it here and now.

Tony stares down at the fish caught in his trap with no small amount of pride. Then he pauses. “Well, shit,” he says. “Now what?”

Peter volunteers to grab the fish out of the water, saying with an excited grin, “Mr. Stark, look! I’m hillbilly hand-fishing!”

Tony doesn’t know what that means, but he feels contaminated having only heard it.

They use two sticks to carry the fish back, each of them holding either end and with the fish lined up overtop.

Peter calls dibs on getting the fire going (a privilege Tony was going to give him anyway), so Tony gets started on getting the meat out of the fish. Rhodey never got to this portion of the lecture, so Tony just does his best, but he thinks he does a pretty good job; there’s only a couple of bones found when they eat it, and it doesn’t take much longer than it takes Peter to start up the fire.

As Tony finishes up the fish and starts cooking them, Peter starts building them a shelter for the night out of branches, moss, rocks, and grass. Tony has no idea how the kid knows how to do this, but he won’t complain.

By the time the sun has set over the trees, the fish has finished cooking and Peter’s built them a place to sleep for the night. 

They sit down criss-cross applesauce beside the fire as they quietly eat their fish, and hopefully that’s enough to last Peter’s crazy metabolism until morning.

They’re staring into the fire when Peter says, seemingly out of nowhere:

“He raped me.”

Tony sucks in a breath. He feels like the reactor’s been taken out again. He feels like he’s back to being forced underwater, with no oxygen, no hope of rescue.

But, no—that was Peter.

“God, Pete, I—“

“It’s okay. Well,” Peter huffs a laugh, smiling as his eyes meet Tony’s, “it’s not okay. But I will be.”

It’s what he expected, ever since the initial incident earlier that day. But, god, hearing it.

Tony wasn’t ready. And he’d be lying if he said he hasn’t started tearing up.

God. He has so many questions. Who, and where, and when, and—

“Does May know?” Tony asks carefully.

Don’t overstep. Don’t overstep. Don’t.

Peter blinks. “Oh,” he says, “yeah, yeah, May knows. Ben did, too... It happened a long time ago.”

A long time ago for Peter means pretty recently to Tony. What was he doing while Peter was being abused? It must’ve been...what, when Tony had first started being Iron Man? Or when Fury first came knocking on his door?

“I don’t know what to say,” Tony says finally. It’s almost impossible to wrap his head around it, that this boy, his boy, could have something like this happen to him.

“Me neither,” Peter says, and when Tony looks up, the kid’s smiling, eyebrows drawn sympathetically. “It’s okay. I just wanted to tell you.”

“I’m glad you did. If there’s anything I can do to help… I’m here for you.”

“Thanks, Mr. Stark. I’ll let you know.”

And Tony just has to hope he will.


	2. Day 2

Tony wakes up at least four times throughout the night, either ice cold from the dying fire or just plain uncomfortable on the hard ground. When he finally accepts that he’s awake, it’s when he can see the pink of the sky from the sun beginning to raise up and when he can feel a killer crick in his back demanding he move. 

With a groan, he accepts his fate, sitting up in their little tent and looking over to Peter, who’s somehow looking happy in his sleep. 

Shrugging, Tony lets the kid go at it, moving to stand up and brushing off as much dirt from his clothes as he can. He adds some more wood to the fire to keep it going then heads back down to the river, not particularly hungry, but knowing that Peter will already be peckish by the time he wakes up.

He tests his luck with fishing again, and while he doesn’t do as well as the night before, he manages to pull in enough to hopefully satiate the human garbage disposal. 

Peter meets up with him just as Tony’s started attempting to pick up the fish, socks and shoes abandoned beside the river and pants pulled up.

“Good morning, Mr. Stark,” Peter says, way too chipper for this early in the morning after sleeping out in the woods. “How’s it going?”

“How the fuck did you do this?” Tony asks instead of answering the question. He gets hold of one particularly unlucky fish for a moment, squeezing as tight as he can. It still manages to squirm out of his hands. “Fucking hell.”

Peter laughs, toeing off his shoes and pulling his socks off after. 

Tony steps out of the river as Peter pulls his pant legs up and steps in.

“It helps when you have sticky hands,” Peter says, flexing his fingers a couple of times.

“Ah, so you cheated,” Tony says. He sits down on the grass beside the river to pull his socks and shoes back on.

“What?” Peter says with a laugh. He grabs one fish and tosses it onto the grass. “It’s not cheating. It’s called ‘using my assets’.”

Tony blows a laugh between his teeth. “Whatever you say, cheater.”

They eat their fish for breakfast and take care of any other morning necessities possible in the woods. Tony washes his face in the river and feels at least somewhat more human after. 

Peter, meanwhile, makes an attempt to brush his teeth with a leaf.

Tony holds back a laugh at the green stuck to the kid’s teeth, simply giving a thumbs-up when Peter asks how it looks.

They abandon camp to continue walking along the river, making some headway on what has turned out to be a much longer hike than expected. 

Peter climbs a couple of trees, but he still doesn’t see any signs of civilization anywhere close. Great. 

Then, as if things couldn’t get worse, Peter groans.

“Oh no.”

Tony looks over, eyebrows raising up. 

“What’s up?” Tony asks.

Peter hesitates. “Well...uh...okay,” he stands up straighter, head looking literally anywhere other than at Tony. “You remember my school trip to Europe?”

That disaster. Fury still hasn’t heard the end of it from him.

“I remember,” Tony says simply.

“Okay,” Peter says, one hand twisting in his hair. “Right. Well, you know about the Mysterio guy, but...there was something I didn’t tell you.”

Chest tightening, Tony fakes a small smile. “He made you hallucinate shit, right?”

“Y-right,” Peter says. He pulls his hand out of his hair, arms hanging down at his sides. “Thing is...it didn’t really stop.”

Tony freezes in his tracks. Oh.

Peter keeps walking stiffly ahead.

“Okay,” Tony says, nodding. He strides forward, not really speed-walking, just allowing his long steps to begin catching up. “Okay, that’s—how long has this been going on for, Pete?” Tony rubs a hand over his eyes, just enough behind Peter for him not to see.

Peter wrings his hands together, head turning the opposite way than where Tony’s stepping up. “Um, it’s...the whole time,” he says. “I talked to May about it—I had to, really—and we...well, I talked to some lady about it, and now I take medication. So now I don’t, anymore. Get confused, or...hallucinate.”

Tony nods, pulling in a breath. “Okay,” he says, at this point to the left side of Peter. “That’s good, Pete.”

Peter swallows, jaw clenched. “I’m supposed to take them everyday.”

Oh.

Uh-oh.

Tony nods slowly. “I’m seeing the issue now.”

Peter huffs a flavorless laugh. “Yeah,” he says, biting his bottom lip.

What can Tony even say? Like—he could synthesize the medication, but that’s in a lab, with a chemical guide. Where’s the guide to this particular equation?

Peter looks at Tony finally, eyes red.

“Mr. Stark—Tony—I’m really scared.” His right hand twists back into his curls. “I’ve never forgotten. This is the first time I missed taking it.”

“Hey, can I touch you?” Tony asks. At his nod, Tony places a hand on his back, rubbing circles between his shoulder blades.

Peter turns back forward even as they come to a stop.

“It’ll be okay,” Tony says. “I...maybe I shouldn’t be telling you this. After Afghanistan, I was in a rough spot.” To say the least. “They had me on anti-depressants for a while.”

Peter’s eyes widen, mouth opening slightly.

Tony could almost laugh. This kid. Always wearing his emotions on his sleeve.

“Point is, I wasn’t as good at taking them as you are,” Tony says. He isn’t really seeing anything as he stares ahead. “Missed a few doses. But it’s okay—it usually takes a little while for the medication to completely leave your system.” He ends with a couple pats at Peter’s back. “And you’ll be back to spidering around the city by then.”

He doesn’t mention how Peter’s metabolism will affect that timeline. Tony’s determined to not let it be an issue.

They make eye contact again, and Peter’s lips pull into a weak smile. Nodding, he says, “Thanks, M—Tony. That helps. And...for sharing. Thanks.”

Tony attempts a smile back. “Of course, kid.” He pats at Peter’s back a couple more times, signaling the end of the emotions. “We’ll get through this.”

They keep walking in silence, Tony lost in thought with wonders of how he could have missed all of this. Sure, he knew that the kid couldn’t possibly be happy all the time, but the fact that he’s had this many demons this whole time… It definitely makes Tony see him in a different light.

“Hey,” Peter says some time later, and Tony looks over to him. “Thanks again for telling me that stuff earlier… It must have been hard to talk about, you know? So thanks.”

This teenaged kid is more mature than Tony was in his twenties. Hell, even most of his thirties.

“No problem,” Tony says. And, ooh, boy, he can smell another emotional conversation coming, but even though it’s uncomfortable, he finds himself leading: “What we do… It can be pretty tough sometimes.”

“Yeah,” Peter says, and Tony’s quiet until Peter continues, “This is embarrassing, but sometimes I get nightmares.”

“That’s not embarrassing. I do, too.”

Peter’s head turns as he looks over. “Do you really?” he asks, sounding awed.

“Yup. I’m pretty sure all of us do. It comes with the trade.”

Peter laughs shortly. “That’s cool. Well, wait, it’s not cool—”

“But you thought you were the only one,” Tony guesses, and Peter says:

“Yeah. I kinda did.”

Tony nods. “Nope, totally normal. You tell someone if they get out of hand, though, okay?” Then, because he knows he has to clarify with this martyr of a kid: “That means if they start happening nightly—or, hell, even weekly. Capiche?”

“Capiche.”

“Good.” This one’s gonna be even more awkward, but Tony’s already in this deep. It takes him a second to find the words, starting and scrapping intros in his head. Finally, he asks, “So, while we’re on the topic, how are you doing lately? You know, mentally.”

“That’s...a weird question, Mr. Stark.”

“Sometimes the weirdest questions are the best ones to ask,” Tony says, aiming for cryptic and wise. 

He achieves it.

“True,” Peter says. He pushes a tree branch out of the way then says, “I don’t know. I’ve been alright. Like I said, I’m on that medication now, and that helps a lot.”

Tony nods. “What about anxiety-wise? You ever get anxious?”

“Well, yeah, sometimes,” Peter says. “Mostly just with normal stuff, like when I have a test or am fighting someone or hear a weird sound in the apartment.”

Tony’s eyes squint and he looks over. “Wait, what was that last one?”

“You know,” Peter starts, waving a hand around. “Like, when the house is settling and stuff. It freaks me out.”

“Why does that freak you out? You think someone’s there or something?”

“No, it’s not that… I told you, didn’t I? About Vulture?”

Oh, dear god. 

“What about The Vulture?” Tony asks, voice hedging on wary. He knows he asked for it, but he can’t help feeling completely out of his element here.

“You know…” Peter says. He rubs a hand behind his neck and smiles awkwardly as he says, “When he dropped a building on me.”

Tony is going to have a heart-attack before this adventure is done.

“He dropped a building on you?! Why didn’t I—” Right. He took away the suit. Tony curses himself for that decision again. “How did you survive that?”

“It was honestly pretty scary,” Peter says, and Tony resists the urge to say ‘duh’. “I got stuck under some rubble, and, well. I was strong enough to lift it up, so it’s whatever, I guess. Haha.”

That laugh was faker than Tony’s smile at half the galas he’s attended.

“Pete,” Tony says seriously, and he knows he’s caught the kid’s attention by the way he looks over. “That really sucks, kid. I wouldn’t trust any buildings after that.”

Of course, Tony nails the issue right on the head. Peter offers a shrug. 

“I get kinda freaked out, sometimes,” he admits, and Tony just—doesn’t know what to say. 

“I’ll say.”

“But it’s okay,” Peter says. “It really doesn’t happen too often. It’s a silly fear, anyway. Like clowns, or something.”

“Hey, clowns can be pretty freaky,” Tony jokes, and he bumps Peter’s shoulder with his own. 

“Yeah,” Peter says, getting what Tony’s trying to say. “True stuff.”

They walk through most of the day, taking a couple of breaks along the river. At one point, Peter takes a second to explore off their chosen path, and he comes back with a handful of strawberries—a nice treat that Tony doesn’t get to indulge in often, due to Pepper’s allergy. 

They manage to luck out once it’s a little past mid-day, finding a cave along the river to rest in. 

“Well, shit,” Tony says, tapping the side of it. “Looks like we found our shelter for the night.”

Peter claps his hands together into a prayer, saying, “Amen.”

Tony leaves to grab wood for that night’s fire, and when he comes back, Peter’s stripped down to his underwear, running for the river. 

Tony snorts a laugh. “You sure about that, kid? The water’s freezing.”

That at least slows Peter to a stop as he considers. But then the kid shrugs, jumping in, and Tony guffaws at the balls. 

Peter yells when he rises up from the water. “Oh, you were right! You were right, Mr. Stark, it’s freezing!”

Tony doesn’t even hide the fact that he’s laughing at him. “Don’t get hypothermia.”

“I won’t, I won’t.”

He manages to convince Tony to at least dip his feet in, and Tony taps the water quickly, claiming that he was in the water and that that’s enough. 

Dinner that night’s a little skimpy, but Tony convinces the kid that he’s fine. And he is. 

He falls asleep in their little cave with the fire going and the kid by his side. 

As long as he can keep this kid safe, he’s fine. 

He just worries about whether he can keep the kid safe from himself. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, that was wholesome at a couple places. Love this chapter. Get ready for shit to hit the fan, folks.


	3. Day 3

It’s another shitty sleep, as to be expected when you’re sleeping on literal rock. When Tony wakes up for the final time, he rolls over to find that Peter’s not there beside him. Uh oh. His eyes widen immediately, sleep be damned.

He sits up, rubbing a hand over his face. It’s no big deal. Peter’s just out going to the bathroom. Maybe collecting wood for the fire. Tony should give him space.

Or… No, Tony should go help him out. With the wood. Yes. Just to make sure he’s okay...with the wood.

Tony emerges from their little cave, awkwardly crouched low to the ground, and immediately spots Peter.

Yup. Tony smiles. He was right. The kid’s just collecting wood for fire.

“Morning, kiddo,” he says.

Peter’s head whips up, and he looks at Tony, eyes wide and mouth parted.

“Oh,” he says. “Good morning. I was just thinking about you. Interesting.”

Is it? Interesting?

“Yeah, this lazy bones finally decided to rise and shine,” Tony jokes. “How’d you sleep last night?” He stretches his arms up, joints popping and cracking. Ugh. Peter’ll think he’s old.

“Oh, you are gleaming, Mr. Stark,” Peter says, breathing a laugh. Aaaaand there’s that smile. “And I slept good. You?”

Liar.

“Honestly, best sleep of my life,” Tony lies back.

They share smirks.

After a ‘quick’ breakfast, they get back on the move. The river has to lead somewhere, afterall.

Later.

Peter thinks Tony doesn’t notice him eyeing him out of the corner of his eye every other minute.

Tony forces himself to walk faster, even when his shitty heart tightens at the pace.

Later…

“So,” Peter says out of nowhere. “Remember that first time you took me out for ice cream?”

Weird conversation-starter, but yes. Kinda hard to forget. Tony snorts. “Yeah, I remember,” he says.

The kid forgot to do his English essay until the night before. After working on it all night, they had just enough time to hit the Baskin Robbins before school. Tony probably shouldn’t’ve rewarded the kid after that, but considering Tony’s English-skills? Yeah, it was basically a feat for both of them. Celebration wasn’t optional at that point.

“What flavor ice cream did you get?” Peter asks.

Tony blinks, looking over. Pretty specific, but he does remember: “Butter pecan. But my favorite is hazelnut.”

Peter teased him relentlessly, calling butter pecan an ‘old people flavor’. Well, fuck you, too, kid.

Peter nods slowly. “What flavor did I get?” he asks next.

Oh, christ. Whatever it was, it was disgusting. It takes a second for it to come to him, but when it does:

“Ugh, God,” he says, lip curling. “Bubble gum and rocky road.”

Peter smiles, laughing. “It was amazing,” he claims, making Tony shake his head in wonder.

Behind the facade, though, Tony’s left to wonder.

They continue along their path, and Peter seems more relaxed than he’s been all day. Almost like that was a test.

“Your stomach is something else,” Tony jokes. Now he’s the one looking at the kid from the corner of his eye.

————————

One time would have been fine. Tony could have written it off; they’ve been walking for days, and they’re both tired. He can’t expect the kid to be the smoothest conversationalist at all times. It’s fine. It’s cool.

But actually, it might not be fine. The questions keep coming.

“What was the first project we worked on together?”

and

“Do you remember how I exploded the lab that one time?”

The worst part is that Tony finds himself unable to even predict when the questions are coming. At first they’re spaced out, with what has to be at least an hour between them. Then two more come in rapid succession:

“How many times have I used the parachute in my suit?”

Then, of all things, “What did I say I wanted for dinner last—”

“Peter,” Tony interrupts this time. “C’mon, kid. How am I gonna remember that one?”

Peter looks at him silently, eyes wide and pouting.

Tony sighs. “Whatever day, it was probably pizza, let’s be honest.”

The kid nods, letting go of the pouty face. “You’re right,” he says. “I’m being silly.”

Good. Sounds like end of subject.

Even later...

“Hmm…”

Peter’s been gone for what has to have been at least twenty-minutes. Kid implied he was going to the bathroom, and Tony’s trying not to make it awkward, but come on. Nobody takes this long without at least a phone. No healthy teenager, anyways.

He waits a few minutes longer, entertaining himself by throwing rocks in the river, then finally goes off after Peter.

“Hey, kid,” he calls out as he starts walking through the trees. “You doing alright? You didn’t get eaten by a bear, did you?” Tony’s being ridiculous. Even just the idea of that makes his heart race faster.

There is no response.

“Peter,” Tony calls, raising his voice. “Where the fuck are you?” he sings.

“Stay where you are,” he hears from his right, a cold, harsh voice, and he spins around to see Peter peeking out from behind a tree.

“Peter,” Tony says, relieved. He starts stepping forward, saying, “Jesus, kid, were you—”

But Peter cuts him off, taking a step back. “I said stay where you are.”

Tony stops talking, mouth parted. Uh-oh.

They’re quiet for a couple of seconds, just staring at each other. Tony’s hands are splayed out in the air at his side. He attempts to calm the kid down, saying, “Hey, buddy, it’s just me.”

But Peter shakes his head. “Prove it,” he says, and literally, what the hell?

“My name is Tony Stark,” Tony starts. “I’ve known you for a little over a year now. We fought Thanos together, and now we’re hiking through the woods.”

Peter swallows, not taking his eyes off Tony, who stays frozen in place.

“Last week we watched Frozen II together,” Tony tries. “And you cried.”

Peter’s not breathing.

“Peter, you need to take a breath,” Tony says, and he feels as trapped as he did a couple of days ago, when he was literally tied to a chair. “Everything’s okay. It’s me, Tony. Mr. Stark.”

“Mr. Stark wouldn’t call himself by that name,” Peter says, taking a step back. 

Tony matches him, taking a step forward. “Yes, I would,” Tony says. “I’m just trying to make you comfortable, okay? It’s okay. Breathe.”

He doesn’t breathe. In fact, his eyes well with tears. He skitters backwards, hitting a tree, and Tony takes his chance to continue stepping forward, his hands still raised out in an innocent, palm-out gesture. 

“I swear, it’s—”

And then Peter surprises him: he climbs backwards up the tree.

“Peter—” Tony calls, surprised, but Peter just finds a branch to clutch on to.

Tony looks up at him, eyes wide, and Peter shouts down:

“Prove who you are!”

“Who else would I be, kiddo? Quentin Beck’s dead, remember? You’re safe now.”

Peter shakes his head, his breath coming out in a sob.

Tony doesn’t know how to fix this. “We had grilled cheese at your last birthday party!” Tony calls up. “You kazoo’d along to ‘Happy Birthday’, and it was the most ridiculous thing ever!”

Peter just sobs.

————————

Thank god, Tony eventually convinces the kid to come down. The sun has moved considerably, time refusing to pause or slow down for them. 

When Peter’s finally at ground-level, Tony practically begs to hug him, and Peter allows it. 

Tony’s not sure if he can ever feel safe enough to let go.

“I’m so sorry,” Peter says, crying onto Tony’s shoulder. “I’m just so confused.”

“It’s okay,” Tony says. God, they have to get out of these woods. The stress must be getting to him. “We’re gonna be okay. If it helps, I’ll stay within eyesight at all times. That way you know it’s me. Would that work?”

Peter hesitates. Then he nods. 

Oh, thank god. Just—thank god.

————————

They get back to the river and continue walking, Peter in silence. 

Tony’s almost afraid to let it go quiet again. He starts telling Peter stories, anything and everything he can think of to keep them both distracted. 

The sun starts to set, and Tony almost asks if the kid wants to settle for the night, but one look shows Tony his answer. 

They walk through the night. 

“Mr. Stark,” Peter says. Tony just stopped talking, his voice hoarse from keeping up the conversation for hours, and it’s during this small blank-space between stories that Peter cuts in. “Thank you. You don’t have to keep talking… I’m feeling better now.”

Tony smiles, feeling it unable to reach his eyes. “I’m glad, kiddo,” he says, and he stretches his arm out slowly so that Peter can see his intent to wrap it around his shoulders. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I… I don’t know if I can,” Peter says, and Tony nods.

“That’s okay,” he says quickly. He’s shaking, maybe from the cold or maybe from anxiety. “Don’t worry about it.”

Peter sighs out a breath. “Thank you, Mr. Stark. Just—thanks.”

Tony looks over at him. “You know, we’re gonna get out of this, kiddo. You hear me?”

Peter attempts a smile. “I hear you, Mr. Stark.”

Tony smiles back. “Good.”

They stop for a rest, sitting on some rocks beside the river, and Peter puts his head in his hands.

“Tired?” Tony asks, but Peter just shakes his head. “I just—” He pauses, tilting his head. Then he gasps. “Mr. Stark, I hear something.”

He runs ahead, over an upcoming hill, and Tony follows closely behind. 

Peter gets there a second before Tony does, and he turns back with a grin. 

They made it.

They see a road not far ahead, a town even further, the pink of the sun starting to warm the sky over the storetops.

“We made it,” Tony says. He almost can’t believe it.

Things will never be the same after this. 

He turns to smile down at Peter. They’ll be better.

Tony wraps an arm around Peter’s shoulders, and they walk together towards the sunrise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that ending didn’t feel rushed D: PS delusions are not fun, folks. A lot of the time, mine are stress-induced, so I’ll be like studying for finals when suddenly I can’t because I’m delusional again--even on medication. So there’s your fun fact of the day.
> 
> Thanks for reading! I've been working on this fic for a little while, so I hope you guys enjoyed :D


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